


Favorite Sight

by TheRedWulf



Series: Torsan One Shots [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Firefighter, First Love, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, Love, Meet-Cute, Modern Era, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy, Smut, Torsan, Unplanned Pregnancy, Weddings, plot holes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22207648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which Sansa accidentally meets an unlikely prince charming...Picset is viewableHERE
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane & Sansa Stark, Tormund Giantsbane/Sansa Stark
Series: Torsan One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1486262
Comments: 41
Kudos: 260





	Favorite Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Another slice of life-slash-meet cute story! This time, for a rare pair that I RARELY write!! :D 
> 
> Plus, we all need firefighter Tormund in our lives. Also, yes I know that his beard would make it impossible for gas and oxygen masks to properly seal, let's just pretend it doesn't! Ok? Okay!
> 
> I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors. :D :P
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Sansa did her best to make her way through the crowd, the crush of people around her nearly overwhelming as she tried to get to the ladies’ room. She should have realized when her cousin Jon told her that his fiance Val’s family was mostly from the Far North, that it was going to be a loud, raucous wedding. 

She hadn’t, however, been prepared for this. 

She was sure that her Mother had long since dragged her father and siblings home, having left at the first opportunity. That's the way the Stark majority was, unfortunately, they held little love for Lyanna’s bastard son and Sansa held little love for their judgemental behavior. So, Sansa remained because she was closer to Jon than anyone else in her family and she felt it would at the very least, have been rude to leave before they cut the wedding cake.

That and she loved weddings. Just….not necessarily chaotic ones like this. 

She had nearly cleared the dance floor when a large body crashed into hers, splashing the glass of red wine in her hand all over her pastel pink dress, soaking into the fabric and chilling her skin. She nearly fell to the floor but somehow she stayed upright, losing one of her high heels in the process. 

“Oh no!” she cried out as strong hands steadied her, guiding her the rest of the way through the crowd and to the side of the room. 

“I’m so sorry” a deep voice with a thick accent spoke and she looked up into the bright blue eyes of Jon’s best man, a man she had tried so very hard not to look at all night. She feared if she did, everyone in attendance would see how her body reacted to such a man.

Tormund Giantsbane. Freefolk. Wild man and one of the largest men she’d ever seen. Coupled with his bright red hair and well-kept beard, he was far too intimidating and far too improper for her to be watching as intently as she had. Her mother would murder her if she knew the thoughts that had crashed through her brain the first time she’s laid eyes on Tormund. Gods, she felt her cheeks turning bright red just at the memories. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes searching hers before he glanced to her ruined dress and any sign of injury. 

“I am fine but” she sighed, looking to the ruined fabric. “Oh, my dress” she frowned. 

“I will buy you a new one,” he assured her quickly. “I didn’t see you there and it’s my fault.” 

“I made it” she said weakly, lifting her bare foot. “And I lost a shoe.” 

“You made this dress?” Tormund asked and she felt her cheeks heat as he openly appraised her person. 

“I did” she nodded lamely. “I love to sew.” Why had she said that? 

“It’s very beautiful” he looked back to her face from her legs. “You’re very beautiful.” 

“I--” she didn’t know what to say. 

“I will be right back” he released her arms, arms she didn’t even realize that he was still holding, and ducked back into the crowd, vanishing from sight. Sansa could only stand awkwardly on the side of the room, on one leg since she only had one shoe, and wait for him to return. If he was truly going to---

“Oh” she saw him emerge from the dancefloor, looking like a knight in shining armor in his black tuxedo and her missing nude pump in his hands. 

“Found it” he knelt in front of her and placed his hand on her ankle. She obeyed his silent command, lifting her foot to his care. His flesh was warm, so warm, and she nearly trembled as he slid the shoe back onto her foot, his fingers brushing the heel and top of her foot as he did so. 

“Thank you” she said, watching as he stood up. He was so impossibly tall, she felt petite and feminine beside him, not an easy feat for a woman just under six feet tall in her bare stockings. 

“You’re welcome” he smiled, his eyebrows rising in amusement. “It is the very least I can do.” 

“It is very Prince Charming of you” she said before she could stop herself.

“I can’t say that is something I have ever been accused of” he laughed, his smile was contagious and she could help but join him. “But I am not in the habit of ruining dresses and high heels.” 

“No?” Sansa asked. 

“Not lately, anyway” he teased and she felt her breath catch at the heat in his eyes. “Would you like to dance?”

“Dance? Yes, but I--I was going to the ladies room when we collided and I fear…”

“Right, right” he assured her. “Take care of your business and come find me, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yes--okay” she repeated, taking a reluctant step away from him, then turned and resumed her path to the ladies room, ducking inside quickly. 

Once safely out of the eyes of the rest of the wedding reception, she took several deep breaths, placing her hand over her stomach in an attempt to calm herself. That had happened, her thoughts raced through her head. It was a good thing that her mother hadn’t seen it. 

Catelyn Stark, mockingly called ‘Lady Stark’ by Sansa’s college friends, was uptight, rigid and frigid. In that order. She had harsh rules for her children and high expectations of whom they would marry. This was, for lack of better terms, why Sansa didn’t date. She hadn’t through high school and she hadn’t through college, she avoided men altogether because how could any of them be anything but a disappointment to her mother? 

It was easier to remain single until she was thoroughly out from under her parent’s scope of control and financial support to think about dating. But, by then, she was working in a bridal shop in town and was too busy working to think about men. 

Now, however…

Moving to the large mirror over the sink, she grimaced at the large red stain on her dress, knowing that the fabric was forever ruined. In reality the dress hadn’t taken that long to make, but she had loved the soft silky fabric and the way it danced around her legs. She could dye it, perhaps, make everything a darker color that would cover up the gruesome stain. Looking at the waist detail, she absently touched the pleats, yes, dye would fix it. 

Turning away from the mirror she took care of her personal business and washed her hands only to face herself in the mirror once more. She knew that she had a choice to make now. She could go back to the dance floor and allow the man she had been trying not to ogle all night to lead her to the dance floor, or she could leave…

She took a few deep breaths, reminded herself that she was a woman grown and could make her own life choices, and opened the door. She let her high heel clad feet lead her back to the raucous reception and the fiery ginger that was casually-not-so-casually waiting for her near the edge of the dancefloor. 

“Still working, I see” Tormund’s voice sounded a moment before his arms wrapped around her from behind and he burrowed his face into her neck. His beard tickled and she laughed softly, scrunching her shoulders. 

“I’m almost done,” she assured him, showing him a sketch of the wedding dress she was designing for one of the clients at the shop. Her skills with hand-beading and embroidery had come into their own and in-turn become renowned in Wintertown. Word of mouth brought her more and more clients with each month and she loved that she could take part in so many wedding days. Even if it was in this small way. 

“Can you be done now” Tormund’s voice dropped deeper, his lips teasing her neck as his hand slid into the v-neck of her t-shirt, growling when he met bare flesh, a reminder that she had foregone a bra this evening. 

Sansa sighed as he teased and rolled her nipple in between his fingers, the man’s hands were magic. Simply magic. 

“Maybe” she whispered. “What’s in it for me?” 

“Me, of course” he replied easily, sliding the chair back from the kitchen table and letting his free hand trail to her yoga pants. His fingers danced along the edge of the waistband before tunneling underneath and across her flesh to her folds and the small thatch of curls there.

“Tor” she mewled as he stroked then circled her bundle of nerves. 

“Your skin is always so soft” he kissed below her ear. “So wet…” he pulled his fingers away but her hand shot out to grab his wrist, stopping his retreat. 

“You’re a tease.” 

“Am I?” he chuckled. “I’m the one trying to pull you away from your pretty dresses so I can ravish you properly. I’ve been watching you work, watching you bite that lower lip of yours as you think, watching the way your breasts brushed against the table’s edge, bounced as you scribbled and erased. You’re a siren, luring me to you... ” 

“Then you’d better carry me to bed” she looked up at him as he rose to his full height and stepped in front of her chair, lifting her easily. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held to his shoulders as he carried her, pausing only when she leaned down to softly kiss him. 

He made his was easily through the hall, his strong hands holding tightly to her ass, keeping her against the long planes of his body. She hadn’t given much thought to the fact and Jon and Tormund became best friends while training for, and then working at the Wintertown Fire Department. But once their relationship had progressed physically, she realized what a wonderfully perfect physique his job had given Tormund. While Jon was short and stout, as most of the men in her family were, Tormund was large everywhere---every. where.

“Oh” Sansa gasped as Tormund’s large body pressed her back into the bedroom door, perhaps a little bit harder than he meant to and he immediately pulled back, muttering an apology against her lips. 

Sansa didn’t respond, only returned to kissing him--her wild man, as he carried her into the master bedroom. She was almost as familiar with his townhouse as he was with her apartment, having spent so much time at each others’ homes over the past several months. 

“My fiery queen” Tormund whispered,keeping her high against his chest as he carried her to the bed. Sansa looked down into his eyes, smiling brightly and admiring the wild hair that had come loose from his ponytail. That was her fault, she supposed, as she loved to run her hands through his hair. 

"My fiery king” she countered, laughing as he kicked off his shoes without setting her down before tumbling them to the mattress. 

She would always remember the first time that she’d had sex--made love, to Tormund. He’d been her first and so unfailingly gentle, it had nearly made her cry. He was one of the rare men that cared, truly cared about her enjoyment and happiness, and she couldn’t have imagined giving her virginity to anyone else. She didn’t want to imagine it. She’d held onto it for a long time, unknowingly keeping it safe for him. 

Now, several months later, he had taught her all that he knew and she had found that her favorite was the wild, uninhibited sex that they found together when he was finally assured that he wouldn’t hurt her. 

In a flash, he had done away with both of their shirts, the fabric falling silently to the bedroom floor as he pulled her back into his arms. As a girl, the idea of a hairy man would have put her off, but the way Tormund’s chest hair felt against her bare chest, and the way his beard felt against her--well, adult her was very satisfied by the sensations. 

His strong hands helped her to wiggle out of her yoga pants and Tormund wasted no time diving in to devour her pussy. Sansa carded her hands into his hair, holding him against her core as he ate at her. His beard tickled the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, a lovely contrast to the soft warmth of his lips against her.

“Oh--please” she choked out as he flicked his tongue across her clit, his bright blue eyes watching her as he worked her flesh. His hands held her legs wide, pinning her to the mattress as he drove her crazy, tickling, tasting and teasing her. Tormund didn’t slow his ministrations until she was sobbing his name, her legs clamped around his head as she rode out her high. He lapped at her juices as she came down, and when he pulled back she could see the moisture on his beard. 

“This is my favorite sight in the world” Tormund briefly wiped his beard on the sheets before crawling up her lax body. He diverted only to grab a condom from the night table, rolling it over his thick length. 

“What’s that?”

“You naked and screaming my name” he kissed her softly and she could still taste the tang of her cum on his lips. He settled into the cradle of her body, the blunt head of his cock rubbing against her opening. “You, naked and impaled on my cock” he growled, aligning himself and sinking home. 

“Yes” she arched against him, allowing him to fill her completely. Nothing in this world felt as incredible of the stretch as his body as it joined with hers. 

“Beautiful” he whispered, carding his hands into her hair and balancing on his elbows above her. He began to move, slowly withdrawing only to surge back into her soaked channel. She could feel every moment, her body still on edge from his climax. 

“I want---” she moaned loudly as he filled her. “I want to ride you” she asked, a request that still brought a flush to her cheeks. 

“Fuck” Tormund growled, rolling to his back and taking her with him, helping her to settle astride his cock. She felt him in her throat he was so deep, this time with her own hips in charge of the tempo. She moved slowly, rocking her hips and barely rising, watching his eyes darken and face as it contorted in pleasure. 

Smoothing her hair from her face, she held to her scalp as she took her pleasure, his calloused hands coming to toy with her breasts as she moved. 

“No---This--this is my favorite sight” Tormund corrected his earlier statement. “You riding my cock like a goddess.” 

“So good” she whimpered, speeding her movements in an attempt to chase the pleasure she could feel building within her. Soon she was riding him hard and fast, Tormund growling with each downward thrust, his hands holding her hips, fingers digging into the flesh as he did his best to rise to meet her. 

Sansa was lost to the ecstasy, overwhelmed and letting instinct lead her. The sounds we filth, pornographic and erotic, the wet squelch of his cock filling her and the slap of their flesh mixed with their cries. She felt powerful and beautiful, like the goddess he claimed she was and when she came, it was with such force that she screamed out his name, her hands darting to his chest and digging into the muscle a she rode it out. 

“Fuck yes” Tormund hissed, bracing his feet on the bed and fucking up into her as best he could until his cries of pleasure joined her own and they collapsed together. Sansa lay across his chest, both of them sweaty and panting, completely blissed out of their minds. Beneath her ear she could hear his heart racing and it made her smile. She had done that, his heart raced for her. 

After several moments, he adjusted them to lay beneath the sheet, quickly discarding the condom before pulling her snug against him. She placed a kiss over his heart and lay her head on his shoulder, looking up at his wild hair and beard. 

“You’re a mess” she teased, smoothing his fiery locks with her hand. 

“I changed my mind” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. 

“On?” 

“This is my favorite sight” he kissed her softly. “This will always be my favorite sight.” 

“I love you” she said quietly, running her fingers over his cheekbone. “I’m in love with you.” 

“I love-in-love with you too” he smiled the most vibrant smile she had ever seen and she could have cried. Instead she snuggled impossibly close, holding her man and promising that she was never going to let him go. 

She should have known, really, she should have. But she hadn’t thought to pay attention, not to the missed period nor to the nausea--not until she had dug through her purse and spotted the forgotten tampon at the very bottom. Never had a wad of cotton seemed so sinister. Panic had nearly consumed her, her hands shaking wildly as she dialed her doctor’s phone number and scheduled the appointment. 

It was possible--no, likely, she’d been with Tormund for over a year now and their sex lives weren’t exactly inactive--or boring. She loved him and she knew that he loved her, but they hadn’t even talked seriously about marriage and now…

Now, she sat on the couch of their now-shared townhouse while Tormund was at work, wondering the hell she was going to tell him that she was pregnant. Nine weeks pregnant, no less, she’d likely start show any time now. 

Her hand moved to her stomach, cupping the hardness there that she hadn’t noticed until panic set in. A baby, their baby, she smiled. A wild little boy or spirited girl with fire in their hair and bright blue eyes, they were going to be beautiful. 

Her family was, frankly, going to lose their shit. They didn’t even know that she was seeing anyone, let alone living with Tormund for the past few moons. It was, honestly, none of their business. They hadn’t bothered to include her in the announcement of Robb’s engagement or in Bran’s acceptance to Law School, she had to find out through social media. They were not a tight knit family, to say the least. Her mother would likely demand that she stop seeing Tormund, that she should date someone more suitable, but Sansa would refuse. She would refuse every damned time. She loved Tormund, baby or not, she wasn’t going to walk away from a love like theirs. 

Her brain was finally starting to settle when her cell phone rang. Grabbing it from the coffee table, Sansa frowned at the caller-ID and accepted the call. 

“Val?”

“San” Val’s voice was soft on the other end of the line. 

“What’s happened?” Sansa asked, standing abruptly as her heart began to race.

“There was a collapse today---” 

“No” Sansa choked on a sob. “Are they okay?” 

“Jon is fine, a little banged up and the doctor’s are checking him out” Val paused. “But Tormund was transported to the hospital via ambulance.” 

“Which one?” Sansa ran across the house, grabbing a jacket and her shoes. She didn’t have a speck of makeup on, nor was her hair brushed, but she had to get to him. He had to be okay, he had to…

“Saint Dunstans on Fifth” Val told her. “I am here with Jon and Sa--” 

“Thank you, thank you for calling me, I…” she broke off, swallowing a wave of tears. 

“I know your folks don’t know about you and Tormund” Val explained. “But I know that you should know--would want to know. Sansa, just ---” 

“I will talk to you when I get there. I am leaving now, I will be there in less than fifteen minutes” Sansa wiped her eyes and ended the call, tucking her phone into her back pocket as she frantically grabbed her purse and keys, running out the door. 

She made the journey in record time, keeping safety in mind since it wasn’t just her life at risk in the car. And soon she was sprinting through the parking lot, doing her best to hold onto her keys and purse without losing anything. 

“Giantsbane--err, Tormund, where is he?” Sansa asked the receptionist the moment she was inside the hospital’s emergency room. 

“Who?” 

“One of the firefighters that was brought in” Sansa said impatiently.

“I don’t--”

“Sansa?” her Mother’s voice caught her attention and Sansa turned to see her family in the waiting area. 

“Mom? Dad?” 

“Are you here to see Jon?” Catelyn asked, looking at her with sympathy. “Val is with him and--”

“What are you doing here?” Sansa asked, unable to conceal her shock that her family had actually shown up to the hospital to see Jon. It was a shocking amount of care…it was very unlike them. 

“Val was at our house when she got the call” Catelyn replied. “We drove her down, she was quite upset.”

 _Thanks for the fucking warning, Val_ Sansa grimaced. _Probably shouldn’t have hung up on her_ she chastised herself. 

“Right” Sansa nodded, fear racing through her as nausea built in the back of her throat. Oh no, she tried to force it back but she couldn’t and instead had to turn and bolt for the trash can, surrendering the last of her lunch to the bin. 

“Oh dear” her Mother’s hand ran over her back. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” Sansa said quickly, spitting into the trash can. “Fine.”

“You look pale, maybe you should sit down” Catelyn encouraged as a nurse appeared. 

“Is there a Sansa out here?” 

“That’s me!” Sansa bolted away from her Mother’s touch, wiping her mouth on her jacket as she moved towards the nurse. 

“He’s asking for you” the nurse explained. 

“Jon is asking for Sansa?” 

“No” the nurse consulted her chart. “Mr. Giantsbane is,” she corrected and Sansa could feel her mother’s stone cold stare cutting through her. The cat was thoroughly out of the bag now. Sansa could have laughed, Catelyn Stark was about to learn she was going to be a grandmother, one way or another. 

“Take me to him, please” Sansa asked the nurse and the woman nodded, showing Sansa the way. She never looked back at her family, all of them surely shocked at this revelation, because her only concern right now was Tormund. 

They reached a room towards the back of the hospital, and Sansa saw Val and Jon in the next room, giving them a small wave as she passed by. The nurse let her proceed alone and Sansa’s eyes found Tormund as soon as she entered the room, her eyes raking over every detail to catalog his injuries. 

He was sitting up on the bed, clad only in a horrible white gown, his legs and feet bare. On his forehead was a cut that had been stitched up, dried blood remaining in his hair and eyebrow, and his left arm was bandaged from elbow to wrist. The worst, however, was the oxygen mask that sat over his nose and mouth and the ruddy flush on his cheeks. Smoke was always more dangerous than flame, he told her. 

“Tor” she moved to his side, gingerly touching his bandaged arm. “I am so glad you’re okay!”

He nodded and gave a weak smile, pulling his mask down, “Aye, just a bit of a burn, and some bumps and bruises.” 

“Keep that on” Sansa helped to resituate the mask, doing her best to hide her trembling hands. 

“I’m alright” he assured her, taking her hands in his good hand, squeezing them gently. “Just a building, nothing serious.” Gods bless him and his flippant attitude about having a building collapse on him. 

“You scared me” she admitted softly. 

“I didn’t mean to” his voice was muffled by the mask, but still understandable. 

“You have to take care of yourself” she felt the words bubbling over and she couldn’t stop them. They were an avalanche, rushing passed her lips and there was nothing she could do to stop them. “Because it's not just you anymore, there’s me and there’s the baby, and I need to know that you’re going to be around to help me because I have no idea how to be a mother and I can’t do this alone---” she broke off on a sob, her panic and anxiety consuming her. 

She felt his good arm wrap around her, pulling her against his chest and she sat beside him on the hospital bed. His voice was soft but gruff with emotion, whispering soothing words as he rubbed her back and kissed the crown of her hair. How absurd was this, he was the one injured and he was soothing her. 

“Not absurd at all. Not a bit, my queen,” she must have said it out loud, his words assuring her that everything was alright. 

“This isn’t how I planned to tell you” she whispered, wiping her eyes and looking up at him. He had removed his mask again and leaned down to softly kiss her lips. “I only found out this afternoon.” 

“This afternoon?” he repeated. 

“It’s been a hectic day” she gave a watery laugh. 

“We’re pregnant, then?”

“Eight weeks or so” she replied and Tormund laughed softly. 

“Our anniversary?” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as best he could with the stitches in his forehead. 

“Probably” she blushed, hiding her face in his shoulder at the memory of that night. She’d been sore for days after that night, and she shouldn’t have been surprised that their condoms had failed. 

“You know” he said quietly. “I had a ring in my pocket and I was too chicken shit to ask you to marry me that night?” 

“What?” she gasped and he nodded. 

“I still have it, it is in the nightstand” he smiled. “I’ve known for a long time that I wanted to marry you, Sansa Stark. Long before the Gods dropped a building on me.” 

She couldn’t stop the giggle escaping, happiness nearly consuming her, “Really?” 

“Really.”

“Well--yes, yes” she kissed his lips, chin, jaw and cheek. “I want to marry you, yes!” 

“I haven’t even asked you yet!” he teased. 

“You will, as soon as they let you out of here, we can go home and then you can ask me and give me my ring” she laughed. 

“Greedy thing” he kissed her lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled back, still holding her close. “I’ll give you your ring and you can tell me all about our baby.” 

“Okay” she nodded, feeling so much more hopeful than she had when she arrived at the hospital. 

“There’s only one problem” Tormund smirked. 

“What? What problem?” 

“There’s not getting out of here without telling your folks” he chuckled. 

“Then we tell them everything in one shot, rip it off like a band-aid, then go home and---” 

“And I give you your ring, aye” he kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you.” 

“I love you too” she snuggled against him, ignoring the acrid scent of smoke that lingered on his skin and letting his warmth soothe her. 

Tormund watched from the back porch as Sansa chased after their daughter, both of them laughing as their red hair blew in the breeze. Never had there been a more beautiful sight than this, he deduced. 

Their road had been a long one, but smooth and beautiful. From the moment he’d spilled her drink on her dress, ruining the soft pink fabric, to the moment she’d walked down the aisle in a gown she made herself, every moment was beautiful, even the sad ones. 

He’d gone to Jon’s wedding with no expectations that he would, that very night, be meeting the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. He’d gone to support his best friend, to stand up with him as he married the love of his life, but the second he laid eyes on Sansa Stark, he couldn’t look anywhere else. 

He’d badgered Jon with questions about her, who was she? Was she single? Would she give him the time of day? And Jon had only laughed, urging him to go ask her himself. Tormund had been apprehensive, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and he had no idea what to say to her to even begin a conversation. 

But fate, it seemed, had done the work for him. He’d ruined her dress, yes, but that night he’d also carried her shoes to the car while she rode on his back, piggy-back style, completely exhausted from having danced the night away with him. 

He’d kissed her cheek before she got into her car, and she promised to call him the next day. 

And call she had. 

Now, several years later, he was sitting on the back porch of their house on the edge of the woods, only a half-mile from Jon and Val, who had a son of their own. In one hand was an ice-cold beer and the other was the baby monitor that connected him directly to the sleeping boy upstairs. 

Their son, who was every bit as fiery as his sister. 

“Dad!” the cheerful voice of their five year old beauty, Lyarra, named for her Great Grandmother, reached him and playfully tapped his knees. 

“Princess” he smiled at her. 

“Mom said that you would give me an airplane” she beamed and Tormund looked up to Sansa as she approached. 

“Did she?” 

“I have to check on Brynden” Sansa kissed his forehead. “I am sure he’s hungry by now,” she assured him and he figured that his wife was uncomfortable and needed to stop running around. Brynden was only two months old, and he knew, like her first pregnancy, her breasts would hurt something awful. It was worth it, she would remind him every time she fed their son, leaning against his chest in the bed they’d shared for many years. 

“Aye, I will” Tormund said to Lyarra, who bounced with excitement. He could never refuse his princess anything. 

Sansa took the baby monitor and vanished inside, Tormund setting his beer aside and leaping to his feet to lift Lyarra far above his head, carrying her around the grass as she laughed with glee. A short while later, Sansa emerged from the house and stood on the back porch, Brynden in her arms and a blanket over her shoulder as she sat on the bench to feed him. She watched as he carried Lyarra around, the smile on her face nearly stopping his heart. 

This, he decided, this was his favorite sight. His wife. His children. All happy and safe. 

This was his favorite.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
> @the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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